


Driving Home for Christmas

by IzzyWritesStuff



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:41:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21736996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IzzyWritesStuff/pseuds/IzzyWritesStuff
Summary: When Dean returns home for the holidays, picking out the perfect Christmas tree and dealing with his parents' nosy questions is nothing compared to the secret he's struggling to keep from his family.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, John Winchester/Mary Winchester
Comments: 163
Kudos: 399





	1. Home Sweet Home

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little Christmas story in time for the holidays. Enjoy! [Male pregnancy is a normal occurrence in this story]

It’s late afternoon when Dean pulls up to his parents’ house. Shutting off the Impala’s engine, he remains seated behind the wheel without moving to get out. He glances at his childhood home and blows out a weary breath. It’s been almost a year since he’s been here, but not much has changed. Everything is just as spotless and perfect as it’s always been. The Christmas lights were hung with precision, the driveway is neatly shoveled and the self-made wreath that adorns the front door is as impressive as every year.

With a sigh, Dean shoves open the door and climbs out. Grabbing his suitcase from the trunk, he makes his way to the house’s entrance. He’s barely raised his hand to ring the bell, when the door is opened from the inside and he’s pulled into a tight embrace.

“Hi mom,” he chuckles. He breathes in her rose shampoo and instantly feels at ease.

“Dean, honey. I’ve missed you,” Mary says when she pulls back. She smiles warmly at him. “It’s been too long and Facetime just isn't the same.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I know, I’m sorry. I've just been really busy at the garage.”

Mary cups his cheek. “Don’t worry about it. Come on in. It’s freezing outside.”

His mother ushers him inside and Dean welcomes the familiar smell of the home he grew up in. He drops his suitcase next to the door and takes off his jacket and boots.

A set of heavy footsteps makes him look up and he unintentionally straightens his spine when his father steps into the hallway. “Hey dad.”

“Glad you made it, son,” John welcomes him and pulls his oldest into a hug. He claps him on the back. “I wasn’t convinced you’d make it, since it seems to be too much effort for you to drive down here from Lebanon every once in a while.”

“John,” Mary scolds softly. “Be nice.”

Dean just smiles. He was under no illusion that his father would hold back his usual remarks and comments just because of Christmas. Growing up, John had always been his biggest supporter, but also his toughest critic.

“It’s good to see you too, dad.”

John glances past him at the car that’s parked in the driveway. “You taking good care of her?”

“Yes, sir. She’s in top condition,” Dean replies proudly. The Impala had been his father’s pride and joy, and Dean had almost lost his mind when he was given the keys on his sixteenth birthday. The 1967 Chevrolet Impala holds a special place in both Winchester men’s hearts. Sometimes, Dean thinks it’s the only thing they have in common.

“Good,” John nods. “I didn’t expect anything else.”

Rolling her eyes, Mary nudges the two men toward the living room. “Enough about the car. Let’s sit down and have some tea. Dean, you hungry?”

“Thanks, mom, but I ate something on the road not too long ago.”

His mother tilts her head and looks at him suspiciously. “Since when does my son decline food? I know I’m not the best cook, but you’ve never complained.”

Smiling, Dean gives her a peck on the cheek. “You know I love your cooking. I’m just not that hungry. I’d rather wait for dinner. Speaking of, when’s Sammy gonna be here?”

Mary, who has disappeared in the kitchen, pokes her head back out. “Oh, I meant to call you. Sam and Jessica’s flight got delayed due to bad weather. They won’t be here until tomorrow.”

“Great,” Dean huffs quietly and sits down at the dinner table in the living room. He loves his parents, but they tend to poke and prod their children about every single aspect of their lives, and without Sam here, all that poking and prodding is entirely directed at _him_. And, right now, that isn’t something he’s really comfortable with.

His mother has just set down the cups of tea, when his father looks at him expectantly. “Tell me, son, are you still seeing that girl Lisa?”

Dean wraps his fingers around his steaming mug. “Uh, no. Things didn’t really work out between us.”

“Shame,” John grunts.

Keeping himself from rolling his eyes at the underlying reproachful tone, Dean takes a sip of his tea. It burns his tongue, but he prefers that in comparison to his father’s questions, which he knows he doesn’t have the right answers to.

Somehow, Dean manages to avoid twenty questions with his parents after that. He knows they’re curious about what's going on in his life, but they don’t push, which Dean is immensely grateful for. There are some things he hasn’t quite figured out yet, and the last thing he needs is for his family to get involved in all of it.

“I’m sorry we can’t offer you your old bedroom anymore, honey, but it’s stuffed to the ceiling with boxes,” his mother says a few hours later when she shows him to his room. It’s his father’s study, which is equipped with an old pullout couch and a tiny TV. It’s neither luxurious nor very spacious, but it’s homey, and that’s all that matters.

“Don’t worry about it, mom. This is fine,” he tells her and deposits his suitcase next to the door. He glances at the pictures of him and Sam on the walls. They show them at various stages in their lives, starting with Dean as a baby in his parents’ arms, right after he was born. The most recent one is from Sam’s graduation from law school four years ago.

Mary comes up behind him and runs her hand up and down his back. “You two were adorable,” she muses. “Do you remember that?” She points at a picture of Dean sitting on the couch with his left leg in a bright blue cast.

Dean groans, embarrassed. “How could I forget that? Sam’s _never_ gonna let me live that down.”

His mother pokes him in the side. “That’s what you get for jumping off a roof with _an umbrella_ of all things. You scared me and your father half to death,” she chuckles, then sighs. “You always were a curious child. Keeping you out of trouble was a fulltime job.”

“What can I say? It’s a talent,” he grins.

“Uh-hu,” Mary chuckles and pats his back. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“Night, mom.”

He watches her leave with a smile on his lips. Although he loves both his parents, there’s this special bond between him and his mom. Whenever she’s around, he feels protected and save, even now as an adult.

When the door falls shut and he’s alone for the first time since arriving in Lawrence, he plops down on the pullout couch and runs both hands down his face. He suddenly feels exhausted. The almost four hour long drive was more taxing than expected and his lower back is aching from sitting behind the wheel for so long.

Yawning, he pulls his suitcase closer and unzips it. He’s too tired to actually unpack, so he just rummages through it until he finds his toothbrush and toothpaste, as well as a pair of sweats and a shirt to sleep in.

He sends a quick text to Sam, letting him know that he's looking forward to seeing him, gets changed and then heads for the downstairs bathroom. After brushing his teeth, he collapses onto the firm mattress and falls asleep within minutes.

Despite his exhaustion, Dean wakes again not even two hours later. Before he’s even fully awake, he’s scrambling out of bed and rushing to the bathroom at the end of the hall. He barely manages to shove the toilet seat up before his mother’s homemade lasagna makes an unwelcome reappearance.

When he’s done, he flushes and climbs back to his feet. The upside of sleeping downstairs instead of upstairs, where the other bedrooms are, is the luxury of privacy. No one is going to come bursting through the door, which Dean appreciates.

After drinking some water and brushing his teeth, he leans against the sink and sighs heavily. “You’re not gonna make this easy, are you?” he mutters and puts a hand on his abdomen. With a weary exhale, he braces himself for the next couple of days, which he already knows are going to be anything _but_ a walk in the park.


	2. An Early Present

After a night of fitful sleep, Dean wakes up early the next morning. His back is aching when he sits up, and he’s not sure if it’s due to the pregnancy or the uncomfortable pullout couch. He figures it’s an unfortunate combination of both.

After taking a shower and getting dressed, he heads to the kitchen. The heavenly smell of pancakes tickles his nose and his stomach rumbles hungrily. Despite it being called _morning sickness_ , he tends to feel pretty well in the morning, which is great, because breakfast has always been his favorite meal of the day.

His mother is standing at the stove when he rounds the corner and he smiles. A lot of things have changed since he was a kid, but whenever he and Sam visit, their mom always insists on making them breakfast, lunch and dinner. It’s a little piece of his childhood Dean never wants to give up.

“It smells great, mom,” he admires, as he peeks over her shoulder to watch her cook.

Mary jumps. Turning around, she swats his arm playfully. “Dean, don’t startle me like that!”

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“Go grab yourself a cup from the cabinet, honey. There’s freshly brewed coffee in the pot.”

Dean winces. There’s nothing he’d love more than a cup of hot coffee. Unfortunately, his doctor had advised against it.

“Thanks, but I’ll just have some tea. I’m trying to reduce my caffeine intake,” he explains, trying to sound casual.

Mary shakes her head. “First, you turn down snacks and now you tell me you quit drinking coffee? Who are you and what have you done to my son?”

Dean laughs as he fills the electric kettle with water. “I’m trying to live a little healthier. Isn’t that what you keep telling dad to do?”

“Well, I try,” she agrees with a weary sigh. Everyone knows that John Winchester doesn’t let _anyone_ tell him what to do. Not even his own wife. “But he’s not the one I’m worried about at the moment.”

Dean feels the shift as soon as it happens and when he looks up and meets his mother’s eyes, the lightheartedness has been replaced by concern. He tries not to flinch under her scrutinizing gaze.

“You’ve lost some weight, Dean, and you look tired.”

Dean bites the inside of his cheek. He was kind of hoping she wouldn’t notice the six pounds he’d lost, or the fact that he isn’t sleeping so well lately.

“I’m fine, mom. Don’t worry,” he assures her with a smile.

“Are you?” she asks, stepping closer. “You would tell me, right? If something were wrong?”

It’s on the tip of his tongue. He’s close to just telling her that he’s lost weight because he’s struggling with the pregnancy related nausea, and that he looks so worn-out because his body is working on creating a new life. His mother has always been there for him and helped him figure things out, but, for some reason, he isn’t ready to talk about _this_ yet.

So, instead of saying anything, he pulls her into an embrace and kisses the top of her head. “You worry too much. I’m perfectly fine.” It’s not a lie, but it still makes him feel a little guilty.

In an attempt to change the subject, he nods at the clock on the wall. “When are Sam and Jess supposed to arrive?”

“They land in about two hours. I was just about to wake your father. He promised to pick them up from the airport,” Mary explains.

“I can pick them up,” he suggests. “I haven’t seen them in months and you know how much Sam loves riding in the Impala.”

“Are you sure? This is your Christmas break as well and I don’t want you to spend it driving around all the time.”

Dean laughs. “It’s fine, really.”

“Alright. But first, eat your breakfast,” she orders and pushes a plate stacked with pancakes in his hand. She gives him a gentle nudge toward the table before grabbing the syrup and fixing him a cup of tea.

Dean shoves his hands in the pockets of his coat when he steps outside half an hour later. Light snow is falling and he breathes in the crisp morning air. He’s always loved winter.

He gets in his car and instantly turns on the heater. The Impala might be in great shape, but it always takes a while for the air to actually get warm. It’s the same with the air conditioning in the summer. At least the radio works just fine and when Dean pushes a few buttons, AC/DC begins to blast from the speakers. He grins and starts the engine.

At first, there’s not a lot of traffic. However, the closer he gets to the airport, the worse it is. Due to the holidays, the roads surrounding Kansas City International Airport are packed. Everyone is trying to get there to either catch a flight or pick someone up.

Dean’s been stuck in traffic for twenty minutes when his stomach begins to churn from the constant _drive_ and _hit the brakes_ motion. “Not now,” he groans and cracks open the window. He inhales deeply and hopes to arrive at the pickup area without vomit on the upholstery.

Thankfully, the fresh air settles his stomach and by the time he gets where he needs to be, the nausea is gone.

And, lucky for him, a car drives off right in front of him and Dean can take its spot. Finding a place to park can take forever, especially during the holidays. It’s one more reason why he hates flying.

Getting out of the Impala, he has to dodge a family of five and a man pushing a cart stacked high with suitcases. He almost bumps into an old woman when he takes a step back to avoid being run over and smiles apologetically.

“I bet this is the closest you’ve been to an airport in years.”

Dean turns toward the familiar voice and grins when he sees his brother appear in the crowd. Sam is beaming at him and Dean grunts when his tall body slams into him. Laughing, he wraps his arms around him. “It’s good to see you, Sammy.”

“Good to see you too, man!” Sam replies.

When they part, Dean notices that something’s missing. “Where did you leave my wonderful sister-in-law?”

“She’s freshening up a bit. It’s been a long trip,” Sam explains, then smirks. “I’m sorry I left you all alone with mom and dad yesterday.”

Dean waves him off with a smile. “We made it through the day without getting into a fight. I’d count that as a win,” he chuckles.

“Well, in case we need it, I brought a bottle of really good Whiskey for just the two of us. Jess and I visited a distillery in the summer and their Whiskey is the best I’ve ever had. I can’t wait for you to try it.”

Dean awkwardly clears his throat. “Sam, listen, there’s something I need to tell you—”

Just as he’s about to speak, he sees Jessica walk toward them. She’s smiling brightly at him and he returns it, hoping it looks less strained than it feels.

“Dean, I’ve missed you,” she says as she pulls him into a hug.

“I missed you, too,” he replies, genuinely happy to see her. “How have you been?”

“Really great,” Jessica says and grins up at her husband. She then starts digging through her bag and pulls out a wrapped present. “This is an early Christmas present.”

Sam wraps an arm around her waist. “We were planning on waiting until Christmas, but we both agreed that you should know before that.”

Confused, Dean accepts the gift and carefully begins to unwrap it. He’s left with a little box and when he opens it, a keychain tumbles into his open palm. He flips it over and reads the engraved text.

_World’s Best Uncle_

Sam claps him on the back. “I hope you’re ready to report for diaper duty, Uncle Dean.”


	3. Torn

The drive back to the houses passes in a blur. Dean listens to his brother and sister-in-law talk about how they found out about the pregnancy a few weeks ago, and how they are planning on telling their parents on Christmas morning. Sam gushes about hearing the baby’s heartbeat for the first time and how excited he is that Jessica’s already showing a bit. Dean blames the lump in his throat on his own messed up hormones.

Back at the house, after greetings and hugs are exchanged, everyone takes a seat as Mary puts lunch on the table. John hands each of his sons a beer and Dean accepts it with a nod, even though he has no intention of actually drinking it.

While Dean is picking at the food on his plate, his father is interrogating Sam and Jessica. He asks about their jobs, the weather in California and their plans for the future. Unlike when talking to Dean, John seems genuinely excited and happy about what his youngest son tells them. Dean would never admit it, but it hurts a little bit.

“Jess actually got a promotion last month,” Sam announces proudly. “They have almost doubled her salary, which is pretty awesome. We’ll finally be able to move out of our shoebox apartment.”

Jessica smiles and covers Sam’s hand with her own. “That shoebox apartment, as you call it, will always have a special place in my heart, though. After all, it’s where you proposed.”

They smile at each other, looking just as in love as they did when they met in college all those years ago. Dean can still remember the phone calls with his brother. Sam had been head over heels for the beautiful blonde the second they met. That memory brings a smile to Dean’s lips.

“Are you looking to rent again?” John asks and takes a sip of his beer.

“Actually, we’re looking to buy,” Sam reveals with a grin. “Our real estate agent is going to show us some properties in two weeks. We’ve already seen some houses we like.”

“Honey, that’s so exciting. Maybe we’ll be spending Christmas on the West Coast next year,” Mary says. “What do you say, John?” she asks with a smirk.

John makes a displeased face. He hates flying almost as much as Dean does. “Over my dead body.”

Everyone begins to laugh and even Dean has to chuckle. He glances at his brother, who has grown up so much in the past couple of years. Gone is the insecure, shy boy with lanky limbs. Sam has become a successful, confident lawyer, who is married to a wonderful girl and will soon be a father to a very lucky kid. The only thing that hasn’t, and probably won’t ever change, is his shaggy haircut.

John claps Sam on the shoulder and smiles. “Looks like things are going pretty well for you, son. I’m proud of you. Maybe you can give your brother some helpful advice. God knows he needs it.”

Even though his father laughs at the end, Dean knows he’s not joking. His parents have always had high hopes for him. He was captain of the football team, great in math and had overall pretty decent grades. Nowhere near as good as Sam’s, but still good.

When he finished high school and decided to take a year off, John was livid. In the end, Dean just drove off without saying goodbye to him. After that, they didn’t speak for almost a year.

During his time on the road, Dean realized that he’d rather work instead of going to college. He got a job at a car garage in Lebanon and moved into a one-bedroom apartment. His mother and brother supported his decision, but John struggled to accept it. And, to this day, Dean sometimes feels like his father is disappointed in him.

“I’m gonna get some fresh air,” Dean says and stands up, leaving his half-eaten lunch behind. He hears his mother snap at his father and Sam call his name, but he just keeps walking.

Grabbing his coat, he slips it on and heads outside. It’s even colder than earlier and heavy snowflakes are falling from the gloomy sky.

He walks around the house and heads for the shed where his father keeps all his tools. He grabs an axe and starts chopping up wood. He keeps going until sweat is pouring down his face and he’s completely out of breath.

A voice behind him startles him and he misses the piece of wood by an inch. When he turns, he’s not surprised to see Sam standing there.

“He didn’t mean it like that,” his brother says quietly.

Dean shrugs and keeps hacking. “Whatever.”

“Dean, come on. You _know_ dad. He likes to point out our flaws and make those stupid jokes. It’s always been that way,” Sam reminds him. When Dean refuses to look at him, he walks into his line of sight and puts his hand on top of Dean’s, stopping him from lifting the axe. “You’re not usually this bothered by his words. What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” Dean bites out and drops the axe. He rubs the back of his wrist over his forehead, wiping away the sweat that has gathered there.

Sam rolls his eyes. “Don’t lie to me. I _know_ you, Dean. Something’s off, and it’s been that way since Jess and I arrived. You don’t even seem to be excited about becoming an uncle. I thought you’d be thrilled.”

Dean flinches. He never meant to give his brother the impression that he doesn’t care. He knows how overjoyed Sam and Jessica are about the baby, and Dean wants to share that excitement with them. He’s just a little overwhelmed with everything at the moment.

“Sammy, I _am_ excited. I really, truly am. It’s just… I’ve been dealing with some stuff. Let’s just say things haven’t really been easy lately…”

Sam grips his shoulder. “Then _talk_ to me.”

Dean wants to. He really does. However, the timing doesn’t feel right. It’s two days before Christmas and Sam is looking forward to sharing the baby news with their parents. It’s a special time for him and Jessica, and Dean doesn’t want to spoil that for them. He’ll figure things out on his own.

“It’s okay, really,” Dean smiles. “I’m just going through a rough patch. It happens. But, trust me, I’m excited about Jess’ pregnancy, and I’m looking forward to becoming the cool uncle.”

Grinning, Sam pulls him into a hug. “I’m happy to hear that, man. But if there’s anything you wanna talk about, I’m here, alright?”

“Alright,” Dean nods with a tight smile.


	4. A Bump in the Road

The next morning, Dean wakes up feeling incredibly nauseous. With one arm thrown over his eyes and the other one resting on his churning stomach, he waits for the nausea to pass. His doctor had prescribed him some pills for times like this, however, they are somewhere in his bag and getting up just isn’t an option right now. Not if he wants his mother’s rug to remain puke free.

It takes a few minutes and some deep breaths, but eventually the queasiness abates enough for him to get out of bed. He shuffles over to his suitcase and rummages through it for the pill bottle. He dry swallows one capsule and prays for it to work quickly.

As much as he would like to just go back to bed, he can’t. It’s Winchester family tradition to drive to the local farm the day before Christmas and pick out a tree at _Santa’s Wonderland_. They’ve been doing that for as long as Dean can remember.

So, despite feeling sick, Dean drags himself to the bathroom, takes a shower and gets dressed. He meets the rest of the family in the kitchen and pretends like he isn’t struggling to keep himself from projectile vomiting. He even forces down a bit of scrambled eggs and plain toast.

During breakfast, he glances at Jessica, who is happily eating an omelet and drinking a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. Until now, Dean never understood the term _pregnancy glow_ , but she is definitely glowing. He can’t really explain it, but she’s radiating happiness and joy. Dean wonders if he’ll ever look even a fraction of that during his pregnancy.

When they arrive at the farm an hour later, the nausea has thankfully passed and Dean’s optimistic the food he’s had is going to stay down. He breathes in the scent of fresh snow and pine trees and smiles.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sam make a beeline for the larger trees in the back of the property. John is stomping after him with a grim expression and shakes his head. They have the same discussion every year. Their father wants a nice, medium-sized Christmas tree, while Sam prefers one that reaches the ceiling. They argue about it until Mary interferes and makes them toss a coin. It’s become tradition.

Dean watches the back and forth with a smirk. Jessica walks up to him and hands him a steaming cup of fruit punch. He sniffs at it and finds it to be without alcohol. He takes a cautious sip and hisses when the hot beverage burns his tongue.

Jessica tilts her head at the other three members of the Winchester family. “They should just toss the coin and skip the part where they argue for fifteen minutes.”

Dean chuckles. “You’ve been part of this family for how long now? You should know by now that Winchesters _love_ to argue.”

“You sure do,” she laughs. “Do you have any idea how difficult it was to decide on a color scheme for the nursery? Your brother has got to be the most stubborn person on the planet.”

Dean nudges her playfully. “ _You_ decided to get married to him.”

“I did, didn’t I?” she chuckles. “And now we’re having a baby. It’s still so surreal. We didn’t plan this or anything, it just happened. But we’re so excited.”

There’s nothing but affection in her eyes when she looks at Sam. Dean wraps an arm around her and hugs her against his side. “You’re going to be a great mom, Jess.”

Sam turns around just then, beaming. “We’re getting the big one this year!” he shouts and pumps his fist. Dean and Jessica both laugh and Dean gives his brother a thumbs up.

While the employees are getting the tree ready for transport, they decide to stroll through _Santa’s Wonderland_. There are lights everywhere and the delicious smell of gingerbread is in the air. A man dressed as Santa is sitting on a large armchair next to a nicely decorated tree, and a bunch of kids are standing in line to sit on his lap and take pictures.

“Hey, they have sleds over there!” Sam says and walks toward the stall that lets people rent them.

Dean trails after him with a smile. His brother is like a big child. He’s excited about things most adults wouldn’t even look at, and Dean’s sure that that’s one of the reasons he’ll be an amazing parent.

After speaking to the guy at the stall, Sam turns around and grins at Dean. “They have a two-mile-long trail exclusively for sleds. Dude, I’m challenging you to a race!”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Aren’t we too old for that?”

“Too scared you’ll lose?” Sam teases. He knows exactly which buttons to push.

“Oh, Sammy, we’re on!” Dean grins and pushes him aside to pick out one of the wooden sleds. There’s no way he’s gonna let his baby brother mock him like that.

After trudging up the path that leads to the start of the sledging trail, they sit down on their individual sleds. They’re both very competitive. Always have been and always will be.

“Winner gets to put the tree topper on top of the tree,” Sam suggests, holding out his hand.

“Deal,” Dean agrees and shakes his brother’s hand.

They count to three and begin whizzing down the hill. Branches are slapping their faces and their laugher echoes through the woods surrounding them. At first, Sam is in the lead. Dean scoops up a handful of snow, forms a snowball and throws it at the back of his brother’s head. Sam wobbles a bit and Dean seizes the opportunity to pass him.

“Not fair!” Sam shouts and tries to shove him off the sled. They’re both so absorbed in sabotaging each other, that they miss a large bump in the middle of the path. They both yelp when they speed over it and get thrown off their sleds.

Dean grunts when his back slams onto the icy ground and pain shoots up his spine. He groans and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Shit,” he hears Sam muttered. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean wheezes. He carefully rolls onto his side and winces when his back spasms.

Sam appears in his line of sight and offers him a hand up. Dean grips his brother’s outstretched arm and lets himself be hauled to his feet. He rubs his lower back with a grimace. “I think I’m too old for this.”

Laughing, Sam collects both their sleds from where they got stuck in a patch of deeper snow. “Maybe a race wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had. How about we take it easy and agree that neither of us won.”

“Fine by me,” Dean nods. “But, just so you know, I would have won.”

Sam just rolls his eyes and gives his brother a shove.

Later that night, after they’ve decorated the Christmas tree and had dinner, everyone is heading to bed.

When he gets changed, Dean turns his back to the mirror in the bathroom and looks over his shoulder. He winces at the colorful bruises that are already forming on his lower back. He prods the largest one and hisses at the sharp pain the touch causes. He sighs. If he’d ask his mother for some ointment, she’d just scold them for not being more careful. He may be over thirty years old, but Mary’s dressing-downs are still as intimidating as they were during his childhood.

Dean decides to just go to sleep and reevaluate the bruises in the morning.

It takes him a minute to figure out a position that doesn’t cause any additional pain, but once he found one, it doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

It’s pain that wakes him, but it’s neither the pregnancy related discomfort he’s grown accustomed to, nor the bruises on his back. This ache is new and located in his abdomen. A sharp, stabbing pain that wraps like a too tight band around his middle. Dean grunts and curls up on his side. He feels sick.

He tries to breathe through the cramping, but it only seems to be getting worse. Shakily, he reaches out and turns on the lamp on the table next to the pullout couch. The light is too bright and he squeezes his eyes shut.

Sitting up, he scoots to the edge of the mattress and presses a hand to his abdomen. A million thoughts are racing through his mind when he realizes what’s happening.

Dean struggles to his feet and shuffled to the door. With one hand on the wall to steady himself and the other arm wrapped around his stomach, he walks down the hallway to the staircase. He inhales shakily and drags himself up the stairs.

When he reaches the guestroom, he’s completely out of breath and light-headed. His abdomen is cramping and the roaring pain has spread to his back and down to his pelvis. With a feeling of dread, he knocks on the closed door.

It takes a minute and another knock before he hears someone get out of the squeaky bed. The door opens and Sam appears, hair disheveled. “Dean? It’s the middle of the night, man,” he whispers.

Dean swallows and gives his brother a weary smile. “Sorry, but I kinda need your help.”

Sam suddenly looks worried. “Are you okay?”

Dean winces. “Sammy, I need you to drive me to the hospital.”


	5. Coming Clean

Sam steps into the hallway and quietly pulls the bedroom door shut behind his back. He looks at Dean with concern. “What’s wrong?”

Dean drops his gaze and stares at the worn wooden floor. He didn’t really think about how he would eventually tell his brother about the pregnancy, but this certainly isn’t it.

A heavy hand grips his shoulder and shakes him gently. “Dean, hey.” There’s an underlying panic in Sam’s voice and Dean feels guilty about putting it there. He inhales deeply and looks up to meet his brother’s gaze.

“I’m pregnant, Sam.”

The quiet words hang in the air and Sam’s mouth drops open. The hand that’s still clutching Dean’s shoulder tightens slightly and Sam blinks. “What?”

“I know you have questions, okay, but can they wait?” Dean begs, and winces when his abdomen spasms again. He doubles over with a groan. “Something’s not right, Sammy.”

Sam visibly jumps and quickly recovers from his shock. He grips Dean’s upper arm with one hand and puts the other one on his tense neck. “Just breathe. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Carefully, Sam helps him downstairs and makes him sit on the couch while he gets dressed, gathers their wallets, phones and the Impala’s key, and wakes up Jessica to let her know what’s going on.

Meanwhile, Dean’s trying to breathe through the agony that’s twisting his belly. He feels sick, but isn’t sure if it’s because of the baby or his nerves. When his hands begin to tremble, he curls them to fists.

“I’m ready,” Sam announces a few minutes later. He steps forward to help Dean off the couch and into his jacket, and then leads him slowly out the door.

It’s a quarter past four in the morning when they arrive at _Lawrence Memorial Hospital_. Thankfully, the clinic is almost empty at this time of day and it doesn’t take long until a friendly nurse escorts Dean down a hallway to one of the examination rooms. She helps him change into a hospital gown and assists him onto the gurney. She keeps up small talk while drawing blood, taking his temperature and checking his blood pressure. She writes everything down and tells him that a doctor will be with him shortly.

Dean shuts his eyes when the door closes. Sam offered to come with him, but Dean had made him stay in the waiting room. In case this is really it and he’s lost the baby, he wants some time to compose himself before facing his brother.

There’s a knock on the door, pulling Dean out of his gloomy thoughts. When he opens his eyes, he sees a doctor enter the room. A pair of ocean blue eyes meet his. “Mister Winchester, my name is Doctor Novak. I am the obstetricians on duty tonight,” he introduces himself and extends his arm.

“Call me Dean,” Dean replies and shakes the man’s hand.

“Dean it is,” Doctor Novak agrees with a smile and sits down on a stool. He pulls a pair of blue latex gloves from a box and pulls them on. “I was told that you are suffering from intense pain in your abdomen. Can you please elaborate?”

“I went sledding yesterday and drove over a large bump I didn’t see. Got thrown off the sled and landed on my back,” Dean explains, only now realizing how stupid it was to even agree to race against Sam. “I woke up in the middle of the night to cramps.”

“Any bleeding?”

Dean shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

Doctor Novak nods and rolls closer to the gurney with his stool. He asks Dean to pull up his shirt and begins to gently palpate his belly. “Tell me as soon as the pain increases.”

The prodding is definitely uncomfortable, but the pain doesn’t spike. Doctor Novak seems pleased with that. He pulls the ultrasound machine closer to the gurney and turns it on. Next, he pops open the lid of the gel and squirts a generous amount on Dean’s bare abdomen.

“Let’s take a look at your baby,” he says, before pressing the ultrasound wand against Dean’s skin. He moves it around, adjusts some settings on the monitor and squints at the screen. Then he pushes a button on the keyboard and the most beautiful sound Dean has ever heard reaches his ears.

_Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub_

“The baby’s okay?” he asks, staring at the black and white picture on the monitor. At ten weeks, there’s not much to see yet, but he clearly recognizes the squirming little blob. _His_ squirming little blob.

“I cannot see anything that would say otherwise,” the doctor says and smiles. “Your baby seems perfectly healthy, Dean. The cramps might be stress related or due to your accident. I will prescribe you some gentle pain medication.”

Dean blows out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. An enormous weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he feels dizzy with relief.

Doctor Novak hands him a paper towel to wipe the gel off his stomach and disposes of his latex gloves. Then he motions for Dean to sit up. “I would like to take a look at your back.”

“That’s not necessary—”

“I insist,” Doctor Novak says, already moving around the gurney so he can check on the bruises on Dean’s back. The doctor hums, obviously displeased, and Dean sucks in a startled breath when he presses down on a sore spot. “These are quite bad. I am going to prescribe you some ointment as well.”

“Okay, sure. Thanks, doc,” Dean agrees distractedly. He couldn’t care less about the bruises on his back. Placing a hand on his belly, he sends a quick “Thanks” to whoever’s in charge _up there_.

When he steps back into the waiting room ten minutes later, Sam instantly jumps to his feet and rushes toward him. “What did the doctor say?”

Dean smiles. “Baby’s okay.”

His brother visibly deflates and runs a hand through his unkempt hair. “I’m so glad to hear that.”

“Me too,” Dean agrees and claps Sam on the back. “Let’s go home. It’s Christmas, after all.”

They walk back outside and have a quick argument over who gets to drive. Eventually, Dean settles in the passenger seat with a pout and Sam slides in behind the wheel with a smug grin.

They’re almost home when Sam breaks the comfortable silence they’ve fallen into. He turns off the radio and briefly glances at Dean. “You know I’m always here for you, right?”

Dean’s a bit taken aback by those words, but before he can say anything, his brother speaks up again.

“I know you wanted to tell me about your pregnancy at the airport. I’m not going to ask why you decided against it, but I want you to know that I’m here if you want to talk.”

Emotions are washing over Dean and he curses his out of control hormones. Reaching out, he squeezes Sam’s shoulder. “Thank you, Sammy,” he says with tears swimming in his eyes. “For everything.”


	6. Merry Christmas

Dean and Sam arrive back at the house just before dawn. When they pull up in the driveway, they notice light in the kitchen. Dean purses his lips as he climbs out of the car, hoping it’s not one of their parents. He’s too tired to make up an explanation as to why he and Sam took a trip to the hospital in the middle of the night.

When they unlock the front door and quietly slip inside, it’s Jessica who meets them in the hallway. She’s still dressed in her pajamas and her hair is pulled up in a messy bun. She looks worried.

“Dean, how are you feeling?” she asks.

Dean smiles as he shrugs out of his jacket and toes off his boots. “I’m fine. Just a little sore.”

Her gaze flickers to his belly. “What about the baby?”

“Baby’s fine as well. I couldn’t have asked for a better Christmas present,” he replies with a smile.

Jessica draws him into a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you, Dean. You’re going to be a great dad,” she mutters into his shoulder.

Touched, Dean returns the hug. He can feel her growing belly brush against his own and a warm feeling spreads through his chest.

“Jess, are mom and dad still asleep?” Sam asks quietly, as he peers up the stairs.

“Yeah. I don’t think they noticed that you’ve been gone.”

Dean blows out a weary breath. “That’s good. Listen, do you mind if I go back to bed for an hour or two? I’m exhausted…”

“Of course. Go ahead, man,” Sam says with a smile. “Get some rest.”

When Dean wakes up a few hours later, he feels well rested and relaxed. The pills he took before going back to sleep did their job, and the bruises on his back are only a dull ache instead of the needling pain they were before. The cramps in his abdomen are completely gone.

Rolling out of bed, he gets dressed and puts on the hideous Christmas sweater his mother insists they all wear. He laughs when he sees himself in the mirror and heads to the kitchen.

A plate is shoved in his hands as soon as he sets foot in the room and after a peck on the cheek, his mother ushers him toward the sideboard in the living room, where she set up an amazing Christmas breakfast. It looks and smells delicious.

Dean piles scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages and toast on his plate and takes a seat at the table, in between his father and Sam. His mother places a cup of tea in front of him and he thanks her with an appreciative smile.

They eat, chatter and laugh, and by the time everyone’s stuffed, there’s still a ton of food left. While Dean and Sam clear the table, Mary and Jessica put away the leftovers. In the meantime, John heads outside to grab some more wood for the fireplace.

Then, the entire family gathers around the Christmas tree with a cup of Mary’s homemade hot chocolate. As every year, John hands his sons an envelope with three-hundred dollars each. Jessica gets one with two-hundred. He’s decided a while ago already that finding presents for his grownup kids is too difficult, which is why he lets them pick something themselves.

Mary, on the other hand, is more traditional. She gives her boys and Jessica a nicely wrapped box and when they open it, a pair of knitted socks and hat are revealed. “I’m getting the hang on that knitting thing,” she announces proudly.

Dean watches Sam and Jessica share a fond look, before his brother gets up and grabs two presents from underneath the tree. He gives the larger one to Dean, and the smaller one to John and Mary. Curious, Dean leans forward a bit and watches his parents unwrap the gift.

“What’s in here?” Mary mutters, when she holds a plain box in her hands.

“Open it,” Sam laughs.

Mary opens the box and pulls out a white piece of clothing. She unfolds it and holds it up. It’s a onesie. She frowns and reads the text one the front of it, _“I love my grandparents.”_

Dean can see the exact moment when his parents realize what it all means. Mary slaps her hand to her mouth with a gasp, and John jumps up to immediately wrap Sam and Jessica in a big hug. Tears of happiness are glistering in Mary’s eyes when she finally gets off the couch as well and embraces the parents to be. “I’m going to be a grandma!” she grins, as she places her hand on Jessica’s belly.

Dean watches the celebration with a genuine smile, but he can’t help the pang of sadness. Sam and Jessica are married, have great jobs, a steady lifestyle and are looking to buy a home. Their baby could not come at a better time. Dean doesn’t have _any_ of that, and it scares him a little.

“It’s your turn,” Sam says, and plops down on the couch next to Dean. Then he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’d like to apologize in advance.”

Confused, Dean unwraps his present and snorts when a recognizes the bottle of his favorite Whiskey. “Thanks.”

“Sorry about that,” Sam laughs and leans in closer. “We’ll keep this for _after_ our kids are born, deal?” he whispers.

“Deal,” Dean chuckles.

After the torn up wrapping papers are cleaned up and everyone got a refill of hot chocolate, Sam proudly shows his parents the first ultrasound pictures of the baby. Even though Jessica is already in her twentieth week, they don’t know the gender. They want to be surprised.

Dean, who’s suddenly overcome with tiredness again, sits down in one of the comfortable armchairs. He’s starting to get a little nauseous again and ponders if it’s already bad enough to warrant some pills. Just then, Jess sits down on the arm of chair and squints at him.

“You’re looking a little bit green around the gills,” she points out.

Dean sighs. “Morning sickness is kicking my ass,” he admits quietly.

His sister-in-law pats his arm. “Wait here. I think I’ve got something for you.”

She returns a minute later with two elastic wristbands. They look like they’re made for a child. “They’re called Sea Bands,” she explains, as she motions for him to hold out his arm. “They have a plastic knob sewn into the fabric and when you position them just right, they help ease the nausea. I’ve barely taken them off during my first trimester.”

Dean looks at the bands that sit snuggly on his wrists. It feels tight. “They work?”

“Worked for me,” Jessica winks. “Just try them out.”

“Thank you, Jess,” he says and squeezes her hand. “I’m a bit overwhelmed with this whole pregnancy thing…”

Jessica smiles warmly. “I’m in no way an expert, but if there’s anything pregnancy related you want to know, you know where to find me. What else are sisters-in-law for?”

“You’re amazing. Sam is lucky to have you.”

“Oh, I know,” she grins and winks at him.


	7. Hello Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for not updating sooner. January has been crazy busy so far and I just now had the time to write the next chapter. I hope you all like it!

Despite Dean’s initial doubts, the Sea Bands work pretty well. He didn’t take them off until he went to bed at night and put them right back on when he woke up. So far, he didn’t need to take any of the anti-nausea pills he was prescribed. The only downside is that he needs to constantly hide them from his parents. But, because of the cold weather and need for long-sleeved shirts, even that isn’t much of an issue.

It’s still pretty early in the morning when Dean and Jessica walk to the little bakery around the corner. It’s snowing lightly and the weather forecast predicts a snowstorm later that day. Mary sent them to pick up some croissants and pastries for breakfast. They’re engrossed in talking about baby names, when Dean feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulls off one of his gloves and reaches into his jacket. He frowns when he sees a number he doesn’t recognize.

“This is Dean.”

“Hello, Dean. This is Doctor Novak speaking.”

Dean halts and shoots Jessica a worried glance. When he went to the hospital yesterday morning, the doctor had told him that everything is fine with the baby. Is something wrong after all?

“Doctor Novak, is everything okay?” he asks, suddenly anxious.

“Yes, yes, everything is all right. I apologize for worrying you,” the doctor says quickly, obviously realizing the distressed he caused. “I am simply calling to let you know that you have left your wallet in the examination room.”

Dean pats his pockets and realizes that, indeed, his wallet is nowhere to be found. “I didn’t even notice,” he admits sheepishly.

Doctor Novak chuckles. “I figured. I will leave it at the front desk for you.”

“Thank you, doc,” Dean says. “I will pick it up today.”

When he ends the call, Jessica smirks at him with her arms crossed over her chest. She looks at him expectantly.

“What?”

“A busy doctor calls you, just to let you know that you forgot your wallet?”

Dean frowns. “So?”

Jessica smirks. “That’s interesting.”

“What do you mean?” Dean wants to know, confused.

“Well, don’t you think that letting people know they left stuff at the hospital is more a job for someone working at the check-in desk? Or maybe a nurse?”

Dean blinks. Now that he thinks about it, Jessica has a point. “I guess?” he admits with a shrug. “What are you saying?”

“I’m not saying anything. It’s just that Sam mentioned that your doctor is kinda good-looking,” she replies, still smirking. She nods her head back toward the house. “You should get going.”

“You got this?” Dean asks, deciding to ignore his sister-in-law’s hints.

“Yes, Dean, I think I’m capable of going to the bakery by myself,” Jessica laughs and gives him a light nudge. “Go.”

With a smile, Dean turns around and heads back the way they came from.

An hour later, he pulls into the parking lot of _Lawrence Memorial Hospital_. It took him longer than expected, because the snowstorm hit sooner than anticipated.

With his coat pulled tightly around himself, Dean gets out of the Impala and hurries to the hospital’s main entrance. By the time he steps out of the freezing cold, his shoulders and the tips of his hair are coated in a fine layer of white.

“Excuse me,” he says to the lady at the check-in desk. “My name is Dean Winchester. I got a call from Doctor Novak that I left my wallet here.”

“Dean Winchester, of course. Doctor Novak said you would stop by.” She smiles at him and reaches into a drawer, pulling out his worn wallet. She hands it to him with a smile. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” he replies and puts it safely into the inner pocket of his jacket.

“Drive safe. The roads are pretty dangerous right now.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Dean is so absorbed in watching the swirling snow through the large windows, that he misses the person walking toward him until they almost bump together. Startled, Dean takes a step back. “Sorry! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” A pair of familiar blue eyes meet his and Dean instantly recognizes who he’d almost knocked over.

Doctor Novak smiles warmly. “No worries. I was not paying attention either,” he admits and motions to the thick file he’s carrying.

Now, without the scare of losing his baby hanging over his head, Dean can see what Sam meant when he said that the doctor is good-looking. He has a handsome face and beautiful, blue eyes. He’s a few inches shorter than Dean, but well built. And his full lips draw Dean’s entire attention.

“You look well, Dean. How are you feeling?” Doctor Novak says, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Dean blushes a bit. “I’m great,” he answers, one hand instantly going to his stomach. “Took it easy and got some rest.”

The doctor nods his approval. “I’m glad to hear that.” Then he glances at his wristwatch and purses his lips. “I am sorry, but I have to go. I need to catch the bus. It was nice to see you again, Dean.”

Dean watches the handsome doctor leave and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s hurrying after him. He gasps when he steps outside and is hit by a wall of icy snow. “Doc, hold on.”

Doctor Novak turns around, squinting. “Yes?” he calls over the roaring wind.

“Public transport in Lawrence sucks in this kind of weather. Let me give you a ride,” he offers, not quite sure why.

The doctor looks uncertain for a moment, but seems to change his mind when the wind picks up even more and almost throws him off balance. He looks down at the file he’s clutching and nods. “Only if it is not too much trouble.”

Dean smiles. “Not at all. Come on.”

In the car, Dean starts the engine and cranks the heat up all the way. He rubs his hands together before putting the car into reverse. “Where to?”

“I live in Deerfield, not far from the hospital.”

Dean lets out a whistle. “Nice neighborhood.”

“You seem to know your way around here,” Doctor Novak notes.

“I grew up in Lawrence,” Dean explains. “I moved away a while ago, but my parents still live here. What about you? Where are you from? Not from a cold climate, I assume.”

“Is it that obvious?” the doctor sighs.

Dean begins to laugh. “Well, you’re wearing a _trench coat_ during a snow storm. So, yeah, I’d say it’s pretty obvious.”

“Right… I’m originally from San Diego. I moved here six months ago after my divorce.”

Dean winces. “Sorry about that.”

“It is quite alright. We realized that we are better off alone than together.”

They fall silent for a few moments, both lost in their own thoughts, until Doctor Novak clears his throat and looks at him. “What about you? Are you married?”

“No. I’m not,” Dean replies. He bites his lip, wondering how much he should reveal to the man he’d just met. “It’s… complicated.”

“Isn’t it always,” the doctor sighs and they share an amused look.

“Here we are,” Dean announces fifteen minutes later, when they pull up in front of the doctor’s house. It’s not as big as some of the ones surrounding it, but it looks cozy and perfect for someone who lives alone.

“Thank you, Dean. I appreciate the ride.”

“No problem, doc,” he smiles.

“Please, call me Castiel.”

“Okay, Castiel,” Dean grins. “Have a great day.”

Castiel’s hand is already on the door handle, when he suddenly pulls it back and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a business card and a pen, and scribbles something on the back of the card. “Here. In case you need anything while you’re visiting your family.” With that, Castiel pushes the door open and gets out of the car.

Dean watches him disappear inside the house, before he glances down at the business card. He turns it over in his hand and grins when he sees Castiel’s cellphone number written on the back.


	8. The Secret of Happiness

Snow is still falling heavily from the sky when Dean pulls up in front of his parents’ house. It looks like someone has shoveled the driveway recently, but based on the amount of snow that’s still falling, it won’t be long until everything is covered in a thick, white blanket again.

He hurries to the front door and quickly slips inside, escaping the biting cold. The smell of food wafts toward him from the kitchen and his stomach rumbles loudly. He looks down and gives his belly a gentle pat. “This better stay down, kid.”

When he enters the kitchen, he almost collides with his mother, who’s balancing two large plates stacked high with food. “Honey, you’re just in time for breakfast,” she smiles and quickly sidesteps him.

Jessica, who’s sipping on a cup of tea, smirks at him over the rim of her mug. “You’ve been gone for quite some time…”

“Yeah, Dean, what took you so long? Did you meet anyone interesting at the hospital?” Sam adds, matching his wife’s grin.

Feeling himself starting to blush, Dean quickly takes one of the plates his mother is carrying and puts it down on the table. “Traffic was a bitch because of the weather,” he shrugs, aiming for nonchalant. “And I gave someone a ride home.”

“Oh, really?” Sam’s grin widens.

“Dude, stop it,” Dean grunts and reaches for a fresh croissant. He takes a big bite and avoids looking at his brother. He does not want to talk about this during breakfast, _especially_ not with his parents around. His dad was pretty upset when he told them about his breakup with Lisa, and the last thing Dean wants, or needs, is to have a lengthy discussion with his father about how to maintain a successful and long relationship. And then there’s also the “thing” with the baby…

As if on cue, John walks into the room with today’s newspaper under his arm. Mary hands him a steaming cup of coffee and he gives her a peck on the cheek. He sits down in his usual spot at the end of the table and gives his family a brief nod. Then he unfolds the paper and begins to read.

Dean can still feel Sam and Jessica’s eyes on him, but he stubbornly ignores them. There’s nothing to tell. He gave Castiel a ride because the weather was horrendous and, in return, Castiel gave him his business card for medical emergencies. It’s no big deal.

That’s precisely what Dean tells Sam and Jessica after breakfast when they’re doing the dishes. John went back outside to, once again, shovel the driveway, and Mary’s on the phone with her cousin.

Jessica leans against the counter and crosses her arms over her chest, damp towel dangling from her hand. “There’s _no way_ he gave you his cellphone number just for emergencies.”

Dean, who’s putting away the clean and dry plates, looks at her. “He didn’t give me his _cellphone number_. He gave me his _business card_ ,” he corrects.

“Yeah, with his cellphone number written on it,” she counters. “He’s _definitely_ interested.”

Sighing heavily, Dean rubs a hand down his face. “Can we drop this? He’s not interested. And even _if_ he were, _I’m_ not interested. My life’s complicated enough as it is…”

Sam turns around and looks at his brother with an unreadable expression on his face. “You deserve to be happy, Dean,” he says.

Dean knows his brother is hinting at the many, _many_ failed relationships he’s had in the past. Things hadn’t always ended pretty and, despite the distance that separates the brother, Sam had always been there to pick up the pieces.

A lump forms in the back of Dean’s throat. Averting his eyes, he shrugs. “I am happy.”

“Are you?” Sam asks softly. “Don’t get me wrong, but you weren’t exactly _overjoyed_ when you told me about the pregnancy…”

Dean swallows. He loves his brother and would do anything for him, and he knows the feeling’s mutual. However, he’s not quite sure yet how to talk about this. There are a bunch of things he hasn’t mentioned yet. In fact, he doesn’t know if he’s even _going to_ mention them. He’s always been good at dealing with things on his own. This is no exception.

“Sam, it’s—”

“—complicated, I know,” his brother finishes for him. “Just let me suggest this; Mom and dad are going out for dinner tomorrow night with some friends, and Jess and I were thinking about having a game night. You know, like when we were kids. Now, interested or not, why don’t you ask Castiel to come? You said yourself that he’s new in Lawrence and I’m sure he hasn’t met that many people yet.”

Dean frowns. “You want me to invite him over for game night?”

“Nobody likes to be alone during the holidays,” Sam smiles.

Dean wants to protest, to tell Sam what a stupid idea that is, but something is holding him back. The points his brother made make sense and from what Castiel has told him, he doesn’t have any family nearby.

“Fine,” Dean huffs. “I’ll ask him if he’s free.”

Both, Sam and Jessica, are grinning, prompting Dean to roll his eyes. He’s about to tell them to stop being so annoying, when their mother appears in the kitchen. She’s carrying a large, dust covered cardboard box. “Are you done with the dishes? It’s time to look at old family photos!”

The rest of the day is spent on the couch in the living room. Looking at photo albums is another _Winchester Family Christmas Tradition_. There’s one album with just pictures of Sam and Dean as kids, and one dedicated to Sam and Jessica’s wedding. One shows them all together in California on vacation and another one is from Mary and John’s honeymoon in Hawaii.

When John is handing one of the albums over to Jessica, a picture flutters out between the pages. Bending down, Dean picks it up and turns it over.

“I love this picture,” Mary smiles when she sees which one fell out. “It was taken minutes after you were born. You looked pink and wrinkly, but you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen,” she whispers, and runs her fingers lovingly over the photo.

Dean looks at it and wonders if his baby will look like that when it’s born. A warm feeling spreads through his chest and he smiles. His life might be a mess right now, but he’s sure about one thing; He’s going to do whatever it takes to be the best dad possible.


	9. A Dark Past

Dean keeps checking his phone, but there’s no reply from Castiel. The more time passes, the more he thinks he’s crossed a line. He made things weird by inviting the doctor over to spend time with him and his family. Castiel gave him his number for medical emergencies, not for stupid things like board games and charade.

Dean’s still pondering his decision as he lies awake at night, when his phone vibrates with an incoming message. Rolling over, he snatches it from the nightstand and squints at the bright screen.

_Hello, Dean. I apologize for not getting back to you sooner. I appreciate the invitation and would like to accept it._

Grinning to himself, Dean sends a thumbs up emoji and adds the address and time. When he puts the phone back on the table next to the pullout couch, he feels relieved. He’s asleep within minutes.

Dean lets his parents know before they leave that he’s invited over a friend. He doesn’t mention the fact that he met Castiel just recently and that the man is a doctor that treated him when he thought he was having a miscarriage, because he’s not willing to open that can of worms just yet. However, when he woke up that morning and noticed that his jeans were getting a bit tighter, he realized that he’s running out of time. It’s not like he can show up in a few months with a grandkid they knew nothing about.

John and Mary are just about to leave the house when Castiel arrives in a cab. Mary grins at her oldest son. “He’s cute,” she mutters into his ear.

Dean rolls his eyes and tries not to blush. He’s still telling himself that he’s not interested, but his heart betrays him by speeding up when he sees the handsome doctor.

“We’re just friends,” he tells his mother, avoiding eye contact. Mary shakes her head with a disbelieving snort.

Dean greets Castiel at the door and introduces him to his parents. Mary shoots Dean one more knowing look, before she ushers her husband outside and they’re gone.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Dean says, as he hangs up Castiel’s coat.

“Thank you for the invitation,” Castiel responds. He hands Dean the basket he’s carrying. “I brought some snacks; chips with a homemade dip, bruschetta and some fruit skewers.”

“That wasn’t necessary, but thank you. Jess has already prepared a bunch of snacks as well. She _loves_ game night,” Dean grins. He leads his guest into the living room, where Sam and Jessica are already waiting.

“It’s good to see you again,” Sam says, as he shakes hands with Castiel.

“Thankfully under better circumstances, this time,” Castiel adds with a smile.

Jessica leans around her husband and sticks out her hand. “Castiel, nice to meet you. I’ve heard _a lot_ about you.”

Dean glares at his sister-in-law, but she completely ignores him. Instead, she offers Castiel a beer and offers him a spot on the couch. Sam just shrugs at Dean, who’s still a bit tense and unsure if this was such a great idea, and gives him a gentle push to sit down as well.

“How about we start with charade?” Jessica suggests and holds up a few pieces of paper and some pens.

The next couple of hours fly by. Dean forgot all about his earlier doubts when he realized that Castiel is just as competitive when it comes to game night as the rest of them are. Laughs are shared, good-humored insults are spoken and pillows get thrown. They completely lose track of who’s winning after a while and by the time it’s close to midnight, most of the snacks are gone and the board games are scattered all over the living room floor. It looks like a bomb has gone off, but everyone is having a blast.

“I should call a cab. It’s getting late,” Castiel says, after he glances at his watch. Dean is surprised when something that feels suspiciously like disappointment spreads through his chest.

Just then, the landline rings. Everyone shares a confused look, since it’s pretty late already.

Getting to his feet, Sam crosses the room and picks up the phone. “Winchester.” The frown on his face disappears a few seconds later and he mouths _mom and dad_. Dean can hear his father’s deep voice, but can’t make out any words. “Of course, dad. Stay safe and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Everything okay?” Jessica asks when Sam ends the call.

“Everything’s fine,” Sam says. He walks over to the window and pulls back the curtain. Dean is surprised to see how heavy the snow is falling once again. “Mom and dad are going to stay at their friends’ house. It’s too dangerous to drive right now.” He looks at Castiel with an apologetic smile. “I think it’s better, if you stay here as well.”

“I don’t want to intrude,” Castiel says.

“What are you talking about?” Dean smiles and claps him on the back. “You’re more than welcome to spend the night. Unfortunately, there aren’t any empty beds, but the couch isn’t half as bad as it looks.”

Castiel smiles. “The couch is perfect, Dean. Thank you.”

Regardless of how much fun the evening had been, Dean soon realizes that eating a ton of sugary and salty snacks, and drinking an entire bottle of Coca Cola by himself hadn’t been such a great idea. With his arm thrown over his eyes, he prays for the nausea that’s swirling in his gut to pass. He should have known that assaulting his _already_ sensitive stomach with a wild mix of food wouldn’t end well.

When the queasiness gets worse and his stomach begins to gurgle warningly, Dean sits up and hangs his head. He rubs one hand over his growing belly and takes some deep breaths.

“Come on,” he groans quietly and closes his eyes. He inhales and exhales slowly, thinking it’s beginning to work, when his stomach lurches. With one hand pressed to his mouth, he scrambles off the bed and down the hallway.

The food doesn’t taste nearly as good coming back up as it did going down, and while he’s hanging over the toilet bowl, he curses himself for being so stupid. He’s been having a hard time with morning sickness in the last couple of days, so he should have known better.

When the nausea is on a more manageable level and he doesn’t feel like he’s going to throw up an organ, Dean slumps against the nearest wall and wipes the back of his hand over his sweaty brow. His clothes are soaked and he’s shivering slightly. Looking down at himself, he pulls up his shirt and pokes a finger at his belly. “You’re a party pooper, you know that?”

A knock on the door makes Dean jump. “Dean, are you all right?”

Castiel.

Pulling himself off the floor, Dean quickly flushes the toilet before he turns to the door and opens it. “Sorry,” he smiles sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just—” An unexpected _second_ wave of nausea washes over him and he clamps his mouth shut. He presses a fist to his lips and swallows thickly.

Castiel takes hold of his elbow and nudges him backward into the bathroom again. He helps Dean kneel in front of the bowl and crouches down next to him. It’s a tight fit and Dean wants to tell the doctor that he doesn’t have to stay, but his body has other ideas and before he can get a single word out, he’s vomiting again.

“It’s all right. Get it all out,” Castiel soothes. He grabs a towel from next to the sink, wets it and presses the folded cloth against the back of Dean’s neck. It feels amazing.

“I think I’m done,” Dean mumbles a few minutes later when he’s certain there’s nothing else for him to bring up. He coughs, spits and then flushes. “Sorry ‘bout this.”

“No need to apologize. You are pregnant and nausea is completely normal in your condition.”

Dean chuckles and reaches for his toothbrush. “I think I might have gone a bit overboard with the snacks,” he admits with an awkward laugh.

“It happens,” Castiel smiles understandingly. “Are you feeling better now?”

Dean nods. “Very, thank you.”

“I saw that your mother has fresh ginger in the kitchen. Let me fix you a cup of hot water.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Please, I insist.”

Dean smiles. “Alright,” he agrees. “Let me brush my teeth and I’ll be out in a minute.”

When Dean walks into the living room, Castiel is sitting on the couch with a steaming mug. “I added a bit of honey as well. It will sooth your throat.”

Dean sits down next to Castiel and picks up the cup. He takes a careful sip and hums. “This tastes really good.”

“I’m glad you like it. My ex-wife used to love it when she was pregnant.”

Dean tries to hide his surprise. “You have kids?”

Castiel lower his gaze and shakes his head. His hands are twisted together in his lap. “She had a miscarriage at twenty weeks. After that, things were not the same. _We_ were not the same. Every day we were reminded of what he had lost and we just could not move on together. A year later we decided to get a divorce.”

He sees the unshed tears in Castiel’s blue eyes and a lump forms in the back of his throat. He places a hand on the doctor’s knee and squeezes lightly. “I’m so sorry, Cas.”

Castiel looks up. Despite the heartbreak that’s still edged onto his face, he’s smiling now. “No one has ever called me that.”

“I—”

“I like it.”

Chuckling, Dean pats his knee and winks. “I’m glad you do, because it sounds pretty cool.”

“Have you thought about names for your baby yet?” Castiel asks, as they settle against the couch next to each other.

Dean takes another sip from his mug. “Not really, no. I was pretty shocked when I found out that I’m pregnant and I’m still trying to figure a few things out. Don’t get me wrong, I can’t wait to meet my son or daughter, but this pregnancy wasn’t exactly planned…” he admits.

“How does the baby’s father feel about it?”  
Dean flinches. He knew that question was going to come up sooner or later. Biting his lower lip, he rubs his thumb up and down the smooth side of the mug. He hasn’t spoken about this, not to anyone.

“He’s not really in the picture anymore,” he reveals.

Castiel, sensing that he’s brought up a sensitive topic, puts his hand on top of Dean’s. “You do not have to talk about it if you do not feel comfortable.”

Touched by the sympathy, Dean smiles. “It’s okay. You told me about your ex-wife and daughter, so it’s only fair if I tell you my story, right?” He takes a deep breath. “Luke and I met a few months ago in a bar. I didn’t know much about him, but he was extremely charming and we hit it off right away. About two months later, the police knocked on my door. Apparently, Luke was involved in some pretty shady business. They turned my apartment upside down and found some drugs. His, which he hid there without me even knowing, but the police didn’t believe me at first. They brought me in and told me that Luke was a freaking murder suspect and known drug dealer. After that, I broke up with him. He was _livid_ and promised that he’d get me back.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. All the memories and suppressed emotions are bubbling to the surface and Dean presses his palms against his eyes. He takes a shaky breath. “I found out a few weeks later that I’m pregnant.”

Castiel puts a hand on his back and rubs it up and down. “Have you told your family?”

Dean shakes his head. “My parents don’t even know about the baby yet. My dad is going to be pissed because I managed to get knocked up by a criminal. And Sam… He’s a great lawyer with a bright future. I don’t want him getting involved in this, and I _know_ him. He’d start digging and try to help. I don’t want him anywhere _near_ this mess. I can take care of it.”

“But, Dean, they’re your _family_.”

Dean swallows and drops his head in his hands. “I know… It’s just… They’ll be disappointed.”

“You did not do anything wrong.”

“I should have been more careful,” Dean growls. A tear spills from his right eye and he angrily wipes it away. _Damn hormones._

Castiel shifts a little closer and wraps an arm around Dean’s shoulders. “Things are going to be okay, Dean, believe me.”

And, weirdly enough, Dean _does_ believe Castiel. He allows the doctor to pull him closer and just lets go of all the pent up emotions he’s kept buried for weeks. He feels Castiel’s warm body against his own and just melts against him. More tears keep coming for a while, but when they finally dry out, he feels better than he has since this whole mess started.

Completely spent, he falls asleep against Castiel’s side.


	10. Shared Interest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the short chapter. The next one will be longer-- And more dramatic...

Sunlight is streaming through the curtains when Dean opens his eyes the next morning. Blinking against the brightness, he looks around, trying to figure out where he is. It takes his sleep muddled brain a couple of seconds to remember that he’s at his parents’ house and that he fell asleep on the couch.

_With Castiel._

Sitting up, Dean looks around. The comforter he gave the doctor the night before is pooling around his waist, but the man itself is nowhere to be seen. Dean squints at the antique clock that’s sitting on the fireplace and wonders if Castiel has already left. It’s almost ten o’clock, after all.

Dean untangles his legs from the blanket and stands up. He rubs his eyes and heads for the kitchen, where he can hear voices. When he’s close enough, he recognizes Jessica’s gentle voice, as well as Castiel’s deep one.

“Dean, good morning,” his sister-in-law greets him when he enters the room. She’s leaning against the counter, holding a glass of orange juice. “I hope you slept well,” she adds, and Dean can see how she’s trying to hold back a grin. She _definitely_ saw him sleeping on the couch.

“Morning,” Dean replies. His gaze shifts to Castiel, who’s watching him intently with his bright blue eyes. His dark hair looks a bit disheveled and his shirt is slightly rumpled. He looks amazing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to steal the couch from you,” he apologizes and rubs the back of his neck.

“No need to apologize. I was quite comfortable, actually.”

Dean’s heart skips a beat. At this point, he can keep lying to himself and pretend that he’s not interested in the doctor, or he can finally be honest and admit that he has a crush on the man. “Okay, great.” He smiles. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Jessica, who Dean had momentarily forgotten about, clears her throat. She takes a step closer to the two men and puts a hand on Castiel’s arm. “Castiel here just told me that he’s off work tomorrow and the day after that. How about you show him some of Lawrence’s hidden gems?”

“Uhm, sure. If you’re interested?” Dean asks the doctor.

“I would love to learn more about the town,” Castiel says, smiling. He glances at his watch and sighs. “Unfortunately, I have to leave now. My shift at the hospital starts in two hours and I need to go home to shower and change first,” he says, and puts his empty cup in the sink.

“I’ll walk you out,” Dean offers.

After Castiel has gathered all his things, Dean walks him to the front door. “I would love to give you a ride, but it would take at least half an hour to dig my car out,” he explains regretfully, motioned to the Impala, which is completely hidden by a thick layer of snow.

“That is all right,” Castiel replies, as he shrugs on his coat. Then he turns to Dean and takes a small step closer. “I really enjoyed last night.”

“Me too,” Dean agrees, nodding, and tries not to get lost in the beautiful blue eyes that are looking at him. “Game night is always a lot of fun.”

Castiel smiles softly. “Yes, game night was great as well. Have a nice day, Dean.”

Dean blinks when Castiel walks past him. He watches him walk down the snow-covered path toward the cab that’s already waiting at the curb. He frowns.

Jessica suddenly appears next to him and pokes him in the side with her elbow. “Well, are you still trying to tell me that neither he nor you are interested?” He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can get a word out, she’s pointing a warning finger at him. “And don’t even _think_ of talking yourself out of it. When I came downstairs, I saw the two of you cuddling on the couch. It was pretty cute,” she smirks.

Groaning, Dean runs a hand down his face. “We weren’t _cuddling_. We talked and I fell asleep.”

“Right,” she snorts. “And I’m the Tooth Fairy.”

They both turn around when they hear dull footsteps on the stairs behind them. Sam is walking toward them, ruffling his hair and yawning freely. He halts when he sees his wife and brother just standing there, and frowns. “Did I miss something?”


	11. You Can Run, but not Hide

After lunch, Dean offers to clear the driveway. However, Sam doesn’t allow him to go anywhere _near_ the shovel. Instead, he forces Dean to relax and watch a movie with Jessica.

After a heated argument that ends with the two of them almost physically fighting over the damn shovel, Dean gives in. Sulking, he flops down on the couch next to Jessica and crosses his arms over his chest.

“He’s just worried about you,” Jessica tells him, after the door has fallen shut and they see Sam getting to work outside. “He doesn’t want you to overexert yourself.”

Though Dean appreciates his brother’s concern, he’s also slightly pissed, because he’s _pregnant_ , not an invalid. “I’m _fine_. There’s no need for him to worry.”

Jessica raises her eyebrows in an _are-you-kidding-me-now_ kind of way. “Did you forget that he had to take you the hospital in the middle of the night not even a week ago?”

“No, but—”

“Look, I know that you feel like you always have to take care of him because you’re the older brother, but you have to take care of yourself as well, and your child. And Sam wants to help. He might be your baby brother, but he loves and worries about you just as much as you do.”

Dean looks down at his hands. He knows all of this, but it’s difficult for him to be in the more vulnerable position. He’s not used to it. For as long as he can remember, he’s always been the protector. That’s how it’s always been.

“Just cut him some slack,” she says softly. “Trust me, I know what I’m talking about,” she adds, and rubs a hand over her belly.

Dean sighs. “Fine.”

“Good,” she nods and plops a bowl of popcorn in his lap. “Now be quiet. The latest _Real Housewives of Beverly Hills_ episode is on.”

John and Mary return in the early afternoon. While Jessica helps Mary prepare some tea and cookies, Dean, Sam and their father take a seat in the living room. They’re talking about the upcoming football season, when the doorbell rings.

“Are we expecting someone?” John calls over his shoulder.

“I didn’t invite anyone,” Mary replies, as she wipes her hands on her apron and heads for the door. Dean can’t see who’s standing on the porch, but the moment he hears the familiar, rough voice, he freezes. “Can I help you?” he hears his mother ask.

“I’m here for Dean.”

Dread settles like lead in Dean’s stomach and his mouth suddenly feels bone-dry. This can’t be.

With his heart hammering in his chest, he stands up. Just then, the person he least expected to see steps into his parents’ living room and grins mischievously. “Hi there, Dean.”

“Is this another one of your friends?” John asks, sounding wary.

“Oh, I’m way more than just _a friend_.”

Dean squares his shoulders. “What are you doing here, Luke?” he growls.

Sam, who’s obviously picked up on the tension, slowly rises to his feet as well. He steps closer to his brother. “Dean, who is this?”

Luke’s eyes never leave Dean, but he clutches his chest, pretending to be offended. “I’m hurt. You didn’t even tell your family about me?”

“Get out,” Dean snaps. “You have no business here.”

John, who’s only watched the tension loaded exchange until now, growls. “Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?!”

Luke smirks, but it looks more like an evil grimace. His dark brown eyes bore into Dean. “I’m your son’s boyfriend. And the daddy of his unborn baby.” He laughs. “What? Did you think I wouldn’t find out, Dean?”

Dean feels like he can’t breathe. His gaze swings to his dad, who’s glaring at the intruder. “You should leave my house,” John warns.

Luke cocks an eyebrow. “You don’t believe me? Ask Dean here.”

“Dad, it’s not…” Dean fumbles for words. He doesn’t know what to say.

“That’s enough,” Sam barks. “Leave. Now!”

Luke’s narrows his eyes. “Make me.”

“My pleasure,” Sam growls. He lungs for the man and grabs him by the arm. Swearing, Luke tries to twist his limb free. When he realizes it’s not working, he pulls his other arm back and punches Sam in the jaw. Stunned, Sam stumbles a couple of steps back. Mary and Jessica, who are huddled in a corner, scream.

“Luke!” Dean shouts. He glances at Sam, who’s wiping blood from his nose. Anger boils hot and heavy in Dean’s gut and he rounds on the man. “Leave my family out of this!”

“You brought this on yourself, Dean!” Luke yells. “You left me! And now I want back what’s mine.”

His eyes wander to Dean’s stomach, which Dean covers protectively with his hand. “No.”

“You don’t get a say in this,” Luke growls. He advances toward Dean and throws his arm out to grab him.

Dean gets ready to defend himself, but before Luke can touch him, the man is sharply yanked back. Dean looks at his father, who’s quickly twisting Luke’s arm behind his back. He’s shoving him backward until his back hits the wall with a loud thud. “Don’t you _dare_ touch my son,” John growls threateningly. He looks over his shoulder. “Sam, call the police.”

With Luke pinned, Jessica stumbles toward Sam and throws herself into his open arms. He hugs her close to his chest and tucks her head under his chin, while fumbling with his cellphone.

Dean jumps when someone touches his forearm. Wild-eyed, he looks at his mother, who’s suddenly standing right in front of him. She wraps her fingers around his wrist and squeezes. “Dean.”

Swallowing, Dean blinks at her when his vision wavers. There’s a fine tremor going through his entire body and he balls his hands to fists. “Mom,” he mumbles. “I didn’t… I don’t…” he blows out a shaky breath. His head is spinning. “I’m _sorry_.”

“It’s alright, honey,” Mary says quietly. She cups his cheek and smiles shakily. “Let’s sit down, okay?”

She’s leading him over to the couch, but halfway there a wave of dizziness washes over him and he staggers. He can hear Sam calling his name, but everything sounds dull and muted, like he’s submerged in water. He blinks his eyes, but things keep getting fuzzier.

The last thing he hears is his mother’s cry for help, before everything turns black.


	12. The Point of No Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay safe, everyone!

Dean regains consciousness when he’s transferred onto a gurney. Through blurry eyes, he recognizes his parents’ living room and the worried faces of his family, but his memories are a bit fuzzy. There are flashes of _things_ in his head, but nothing makes sense. Nothing, except for the cramping pain in his abdomen.

He grunts and tries to curl up, but a heavy hand on his chest holds him in place. “You have to keep still, sir,” an unfamiliar voice tells him, just as he feels a pinch in the crook of his arm. Squinting, he watches the paramedic slide a needle into him.

“Something’s wrong…” he slurs, hand moving sluggishly to his stomach. It feels like someone is tearing through his flesh and muscles, ripping out his guts. He can barely suck in a proper breath and panic grips his heart.

“Dean, you gotta relax.” Sam is suddenly next to him, clasping his shoulder. There’s still blood on his face, but he doesn’t seem to care.

Dean swallows. “I can’t lose the baby, Sammy…” he whispers, tears clouding his vision. His emotions are all over the place and the wall that’s usually so firmly in place has crumbled.

His brother squeezes his shoulder and leans in closer. “You’re not going to.”

“What about Luke? Where—”

Sam’s eyes harden at the man’s name. “He’s taken care of, don’t worry.”

“Sir, we have to move,” the same paramedic that inserted the IV says, as she gently nudges Sam aside. She moves into Dean’s line of sight. “Everything is going to be okay.”

Dean catches snippets of the ride to the hospital, of strangers talking to him and of cold hands touching his skin, but everything dulls in comparison to the awful pain in his abdomen. He hears the sirens and hurried voices, can feel the rumbling of the ambulance’s engine and the sway of its rushed drive. It’s too much. His head is spinning and when he closes his eyes, he just lets go.

When Dean wakes up the next time, he’s in a quiet environment. He hears a steady beeping sound somewhere to his left and can feel the presence of someone else in the room with him before he even opens his eyes.

“We have to stop meeting like this.”

Swallowing, Dean slowly parts his eyes. “Cas?” he croaks.

The doctor smiles softly. “How are you feeling?”

Frowning, Dean ponders the question. His head is muzzy, like he’s heavily sleep deprived, and his entire body feels weighted down. He looks down at himself and his throat closes up when he sees his exposed abdomen.

“My stomach…” he mutters, heartrate picking up.

Castiel leans over him when the heart monitor begins to beep erratically, and puts a hand on Dean’s cheek. “Dean, you have to calm down,” he says calmly.

“The baby, Cas…” Dean croaks. “Tell me it’s okay.”

A sad look passes over the doctor’s face and Dean’s heart sinks. “We’re doing everything we can, Dean, I promise.”

“But—?” Dean asks quietly, knowing that there’s more to come. He steels himself for it, balls his hands to tight fists and bites his cheek until he tastes copper.

“There is some bleeding that I am concerned about,” Castiel explains. “From what I have gathered, you were exposed to an extreme amount of stress. Your body is struggling to process it and due to that, is beginning to reject the fetus.”

Swallowing hard, Dean tries to process what he’s being told. He’s own body is working against him, is trying to eject what it believes is a foreign being. Closing his eyes, he fights against the tears.

Castiel rubs his thumb over Dean’s cheekbone. “You will not give up, you hear me? You will fight.”

Dean presses his lips together and lets his tears flow freely. He refuses to meet Castiel’s eyes as everything comes crashing down around him.

“Dean,” Castiel says, and tilts Dean’s head up. “Promise me you will fight for your child.”

Through tears, Dean looks up at the doctor. Castiel’s bright blue eyes show concern, but also a fierce determination that gives Dean comfort. “I promise,” he whispers, and puts his hand on his belly.

“Good,” Castiel smiles, placing his own hand on top of Dean’s.

Dean doesn’t know how much time has passed when there’s a knock on his door. Castiel has left him alone a while ago to check on other patients, after explaining to him that he’s on bedrest at the hospital for at least twenty-four hours. He’s being closely monitored during that time and he’s to call the nurse if there’s even the tiniest increase in pain.

Opening his eyes, Dean rolls his head toward the door when it opens. He tenses when it’s his father that steps in.

John’s clothes are rumpled and he looks at least ten years older than he did when Dean last saw him. He seems nervous as he slowly approaches the bed, fingers fidgeting with his car keys.

“Dad…” Dean says quietly, and tries to sit up straighter.

“Don’t!” John says sharply, stopping him with a hand on his shoulder. Dean flinches at the loud voice, which causes his father to quickly recoil. He looks uncomfortable. “Don’t, uh, don’t move. The doctor said you need to lie still,” he says awkwardly, voice now quieter than Dean has ever heard it. He rubs the back of his neck. “How, uh, how are you feeling?”

“Dad,” Dean repeats softly. John looks up and their eyes meet. Dean takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry, dad. I messed up.”

John’s eyes harden. “What are you talking about?”

Dean shrugs. “Where do I start?” he huffs with a humorless chuckle. “My crazy ex-boyfriend? Or the fact that I got knocked up by said crazy ex-boyfriend?”

“Dean—”

“I know you’re disappointed, okay?” Dean sighs, suddenly feeling weary. He rubs at his gritty eyes. “Can you tell me exactly _how_ disappointed you are later, though? I’m really tired.”

“Dean,” John says and sits down in the chair next to the bed. “I’m not here for that. I’m here to _apologize_.”

“What?” Dean blurts out, confused.

John rubs his hands together and drops his gaze. “I was hard on you. Always have been. Ever since you were a little boy, I always expected nothing but the best from you. And when you started to do your own thing… I guess that scared me,” he shrugs. “You were growing up and doing things your way. It wasn’t how I pictured it to go and I… well, I guess I just couldn’t accept that you didn’t do it _my_ way. And for that, I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Dad, you don’t have to—”

John shakes his head. “I’m not done yet,” he says and looks up. “I’m proud of you, son. I’m proud of the man you have become. You’re independent and kind-hearted, and I know you’re going to be a great father.”

Dean is speechless. Before he can say anything, his father stands up and engulfs him in an embrace. “I love you, Dean,” John whispers, and tightens his arms around his son. “And your mother and I can’t wait to meet our grandbaby.”


	13. Home is Where the Heart is

Dean doesn’t get much rest throughout the night. Nurses keep coming into his room to check on him and the baby. By the time the sun rises the next morning, he’s is even more tired than before.

Despite that, though, he feels good. After a thorough examination right before breakfast, the doctor on duty deemed it safe for him to go home. The bleeding has stopped, Dean’s vitals are good and the baby looks healthy and strong, which means he’s going to get home just in time for New Year’s Eve.

A few hours later, when Dean is getting ready to leave and is changing into his normal street clothes, someone knocks on his door. Expecting his parents, he yells for them to enter without turning around or bothering to put on a shirt.

“Hello, Dean.”

Startled, Dean spins around. “Uh, hi,” he replies, blushing. He quickly grabs his shirt and pulls it over his head. “I thought you were off work today.”

Castiel steps into the room. “I am,” he says, and runs a hand down the front of his sweater. Dean only now realizes, that the man isn’t dressed in scrubs, but in normal clothing. “I just came by to check on you. Doctor Miles told me he’s discharging you. I am very glad to hear that.”

“Yeah, me too,” Dean smiles, and rubs a hand over his belly. “I’m feeling a lot better.”

Another knock makes them both look toward the door. John and Mary enter, but stop as soon as they see that their son isn’t alone. Mary grins. “Castiel, nice to see you again.”

“Nice to see you, too, Misses Winchester.”

She waves him off. “Please, call me Mary.”

“Mary it is,” Castiel nods. Then he looks at Dean and smiles. “Have a nice rest of your trip, Dean. Take care of yourself and the little one.”

“Thank you, Cas. For everything,” Dean answers. He has the strong urge to hug the doctor, but before he can make up his mind, Castiel is gone and the door falls shut between them.

Dean is still thinking about the blue-eyed man, when his father claps him on the shoulder. “Ready to blow this joint, son?”

Chuckling, Dean stands up and grabs his belongings. “You have no idea.”

As soon as they’re home, Mary shepherds Dean into the living room and makes him sit down on the couch. Jessica appears with a large cup of tea and Sam hands him a piece of apple pie. Juggling the mug and plate, Dean chuckles and glances at his fussing family members. “Guys, you don’t need to mother-hen me. I’m fine, really. The doctor said so himself.”

John sits down next to his son and gives him a stern look. “The doctor _also_ said you need to rest.”

“Just eat your pie, dude,” Sam laughs, as he plops down on the other side of Dean.

Unable to resist the delicious smelling pie any longer, Dean digs in. It tasted wonderful and is exactly what he needs after the bland hospital meals he’s had. With a moan, he shoves another bite in his mouth. “This tastes incredible!” he says, mouth full.

“Don’t get used to it. This is the first and last time I’ll ever bake you a pie,” Sam jokes.

Dean blinks. “ _You_ made this?”

“I might have taught him a thing or two,” Jessica winks, as she sits down on her husband’s lap. Dean sees his brother’s hand wander to her growing baby bump, and he smiles. Their kids are going to be born just a few weeks apart, which is awesome. They’ll basically grow up with each other and whenever the family is together, they can play and hang out. It’s almost like having a sibling. Except that they won’t see each other unless it’s Christmas or someone’s birthday. Dean’s face falls.

Mary immediately picks up on her son’s mourning. “Are you okay, honey?”

Dean gives her a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was just thinking about the kids. They’ll want to see each other and their grandparents more than just once or twice a year. I can fly to California once the baby is older, or drive up to Lawrence more often?” He looks at Sam and Jessica to gauge their reaction.

John clears his throat. “Actually, Dean, your mother and I have been talking. If you want, and only if you really want and are okay with this, your old room is yours again. At least until things are settled with that Luke guy. I know you value your independence, but Mary and I want to offer our help. With the baby, with your job, with your living situation… whatever you need. We’ll figure something out. I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye in the past, but we are here for you. And for our grandbaby.”

At a loss for words, Dean looks from his father to his mother. Mary is smiling at him. “The decision is yours, of course. If you _do_ decide to stay with us for a while, you might also consider giving that handsome doctor of yours a call,” she says, smirking knowingly.

“Uhm, talking about moving,” Sam pipes up. “Jess and I have been talking as well and, well, we’ve been looking at some houses here, in Lawrence.”

Dean’s flabbergasted. “You’re moving back home?” he asks, before he realizes what he’s saying. _Home_. Even though he’s had his fair share of conflicts and fights with his father and has traveled all over the country, no place has ever really felt like home. Not like Lawrence.

Sam grins at him. “Yeah. We realized that we want to raise our daughter close to our families.”

“Your _daughter_? You’re having a girl?!” Dean beams, and pulls his brother and sister-in-law into a hug. “This keeps getting better!”

For the first time in forever, Dean is truly happy. Despite the ongoing drama with Luke, he feels like things are going to be okay. If someone would have told him a week ago that he would consider moving back in with his parents, he would have laughed out loud. Now, however, he’s thinking about it. He misses having his family around, and he doesn’t want that for his baby. He smiles at each of them. “I love you, guys.”

Later, when everyone has turned in for the night, Dean is lying awake. He’s absentmindedly stroking his stomach, while thinking about the past ten days. So much has happened, and even more is going to change in the future.

When his thoughts drift to Castiel, he smiles. He can’t deny the fact that he likes the doctor and would love to get to know him better. Glancing down at his belly, he gives it a gently pat. “What do you say? Do you think Cas can handle our family?”

As on cue, he feels a pulling sensation in his abdomen. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles.


	14. Cheers to the Future

The family lets Dean sleep in on the day of New Year’s Eve. When he wakes up, the sun is peeking through the closed blinds and his stomach rumbles hungrily. And, for the first time in a while, he feels well rested.

After getting up and stretching his back, he grabs a pair of jeans and a clean shirt, and heads for the bathroom. As he walks down the hallway, he can hear Sam’s loud laugh from somewhere in the house. His mother says something, which makes his brother laugh even harder. Dean smiles.

The shower feels heavenly and he spends more time under the warm spray than necessary. By the time he finally steps out of the shower, every single surface is fogged up. He rubs a towel over his head and down his body, before unfolding his clothes and getting dressed.

He’s about to button his pants, when he notices that they are a bit snugger than he remembers. Looking down, he’s surprised to see a barely-there bump. In awe, he runs his palms over it. How had he _not_ noticed the little swell before?

A knock on the bathroom door makes him look up. “Honey, brunch is ready,” his mother says.

“Be right there,” he calls back, distracted, and looks at his reflection in the mirror. He slowly turns sideways and looks at himself. A goofy smile splits his face. He’s starting to show!

The kitchen smells divine when Dean enters a few minutes later. He definitely needs to learn some tips and trick from his mom in the near future. Sam hands him a cup of hot tea and nudges him toward the already set table. “Have a seat,” he smiles.

“How are you feeling, son?” John asks, when Dean sits down next to him.

“Good,” he replies. “Really good. But I think I need to go shopping soon…” he admits.

Jessica smirks at him from across the table. “Pants getting too tight?” she guesses. “Been there, done that. I know a bunch of great stores. I’ll take you!”

“My brother and my wife bonding over fashion. Didn’t see that one coming,” Sam chuckles, earning himself an elbow to the ribs from Jessica.

Everyone laughs, and Dean feels something warm blossom in his chest. He’s missed this. Laughing and spending time with his family. The past visits have often been strained and tense. There has always been this dark cloud hanging over them, due to pent up frustration and lack of understanding for one another. Now, however, things seem _lighter_. And Dean is really, truly happy.

After brunch, they spend the afternoon playing board and card games, and when John and Mary go for a walk, Dean, Sam and Jessica cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie. Even though everyone usually dresses up a bit for New Year’s Eve, they decided to skip that this year. Mainly because Dean’s slacks—which he hasn’t worn in almost a year—refuse to button.

It’s already getting dark outside and the coffee table in the living room is loaded with homemade appetizer, when someone rings the doorbell.

“Dean, can you get that?” Mary shouts from the kitchen, where she’s balancing a cheese platter and a bottle of sparkling wine. Dean offered to help, but he was banned to the living room. He might be feeling well, but everyone still wants him to rest.

Pushing to his feet, Dean walks to the front door in his sweatpants. When he opens the door, he gapes at the figure standing on the porch. He blinks. “Cas?”

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel smiles. He’s dressed in his signature trench coat, but Dean can see the collar of a crisp, white shirt and a tie underneath.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m really happy to see you, but what are you doing here?” Dean asks.

Before Castiel can answer, John appears next to them. “I invited him,” he explains, and smiles proudly. “Please, come on in!”

Dumbfounded, Dean takes a step back and allows the doctor to pass. He grabs his father’s arm. “Dad, _you_ invited him?”

“Well, yeah. You said he doesn’t have any family or friends nearby, and today’s New Year’s Eve, after all. No one should be alone.”

At a loss for words, Dean just stares at his father.

With a sigh, John steps closer to him. “Look, I’ve seen the way you look at this man. And he seems like a decent guy. He deserves a chance.”

A lump of emotions gets stuck in the back of Dean’s throat, so he can only nod. He mouths a quick, “Thank you.” to his father, before he walks up to Castiel to welcome him properly. Mary, Sam and Jessica choose that moment to come out of the kitchen with even more food. John shepherds everyone into the living room, where they settle in to eat, drink and celebrate.

It’s a couple of minutes before midnight and Dean is sitting next to Castiel on the couch. John and Mary are quietly talking in front of the fireplace with their hands intertwined, and Jessica is sitting on Sam’s lap, both watching the Time Square ball drop pre-show.

“You look happy,” Castiel points out, and Dean smiles.

“I am. For the first time in years, I finally feel like I’m part of a real family again. It feels really good,” Dean explains and puts a hand on his belly. “I want my baby to grow up with a loving and caring family like this.”

Castiel smiles and places his hand on top of Dean’s. “I have no doubt about that.”

“Guys! The ball drop has started! Come here!” Jessica shrieks, and Sam winces when she accidentally knees him in the side while getting up. “Everyone, grab a drink!”

Castiel stands up, and holds his hand out to Dean. He accepts it with a smile and allows the doctor to pull him to his feet.

“Cas, listen,” Dean says. “Would you, uh… Would you like to go out with me sometime? Next year, maybe?” he asks, and blushes at his own stupid joke.

Castiel squeezes his hand. “I would love to.”

Their moment is interrupted when Jessica hands each of them a glass. Champagne for Castiel and sparkling soda for Dean. Everyone turns their attention toward the TV, where the glittering ball is slowly descending from one of the large buildings at Times Square in New York.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

There’s music, fireworks and cheering. Dean smiles as he watches his parents, who have been married for over forty years, fall into each other’s arms and kiss like teenagers. Next to them, Sam is swooping Jessica up in his arms and she shrieks before pressing her lips to her husband’s.

Turning toward Castiel, Dean opens his arms and pulls the doctor into a hug. “Happy new year, Cas!”

“Happy new year, Dean,” Castiel replies.

When they pull back from the embrace, their eyes meet. For a second, Dean is lost in the clear blue of the doctor’s beautiful orbs, but then they’re both leaning forward and their lips touch. Castiel tightens his arms around Dean’s waist and deepens the kiss.

When they finally come up for air, Dean rests his forehead against the doctor’s and chuckles. “I feel like this is going to be a great year.”

Castiel just smiles and kisses him again.

**The End**


End file.
